Feature - Poem

Evening Walk

Night is falling quietly over the forest, 

Like a small bird on the wing it glides

But silently floats, without a chorus.

Its cloak envelops the trees, and hides

All colour from view, the only shade left

Is black; all colours are gone as if by theft.

A lone wolf howls, thanking the night

For dimming the sky, turning it black,

And dimming the shine of the snow, silver-white.

I start forwards again, my foot on the track

This wolf had made, its prints in the snow

Are beckoning, telling me where to go.

The wind blows softly, rattling the branches

Of the slumbering trees, and stirring up wisps

It’s a warning I ignore - I like to take chances.

What fun is life if you don’t take risks?

The branches are frightening but quite harmless.

They don’t scare me; they continue regardless.

Between the gaps of wind-blown cloud,

The stars glitter above, like specks of silver,

Shining in the navy black of heaven’s shroud.

The clouds flow smoothly on like a pale river,

Hiding the stars and filtering moonbeams

That fall to the earth in brilliant streams.

The forest stops and the treeline gives way

To a field, covered in snow and drifted smooth

Except for the set of tracks, leading ever away

The wolf howls again, it’s cry to soothe

And assure - it’s far away, too far to find.

I turn back to the forest in shadow defined.

The wind slows, and decreases its sound.

The darkness settles calmly on the land,

The clouds keep light from falling on the ground.

Behind me the trees coldly and boldly stand.

As I reach home, the wolf howls once more -

And night is left like it was before.